


i want your belly

by yeahloads



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Body Dysphoria, Kink Exploration, M/M, Pregnancy Kink, harry wants a baby!, jeff being accommodating as ever, kinda sorta, non-mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:48:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24235300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeahloads/pseuds/yeahloads
Summary: Harry wants a baby. Jeff tries his best to give him one.
Relationships: Jeff Azoff/Harry Styles
Comments: 3
Kudos: 49





	i want your belly

**Author's Note:**

> This fic (or rather, the concept for it) was started many months ago and was left abandoned for some time. However, the urge to center a story around Harry saying the words "I'm ovulating" was too hard to resist. This is a non-mpreg verse, so instead of fertility issues angst, this is just regular Harry not having a uterus and having some feelings about it, featuring Jeff being saintly as usual. Thank you Jasmine for letting me spew incoherent nonsense about this (among many other things) always. Edited by me so any mistakes are my own. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Originally posted on [Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/harryseyebrows). Come say hi on [tumblr](https://harryseyebrows.tumblr.com/).

Ben and Meri’s new baby is wonderful. Ruby is wonderful, too. 

Harry’s already been to theirs a few times to visit, but today was Jeff’s first. They got there around noon, just in time for tea before Meri excused herself with little Grace to feed her. Maybe Jeff should have picked up on Harry’s weirdness then. The way he watched the spot where Meri disappeared down the hall long after she’d already been out of sight. The way it took a few moments for Ruby to get his attention back as she tugged on his sleeve. 

From that point on, Harry wasn’t acting fully like himself; not quite withdrawn but not as bright as he usually is. He played with Ruby, stretched out on the floor to lay beside where she was playing and offered commentary in that dry, funny way he has. He held the baby—kept her tucked up close on his chest for the entirety of her nap—and changed her diapers to give Ben and Meri a break despite their protests. He chatted with Ben about work things and exchanged recipes with Meri. On the surface, he seemed perfectly fine. However, Jeff has made a point to become accustomed to all of the micro actions and expressions Harry has to offer; he can always tell when something is wrong. 

They stayed almost until dinner, but politely declined Ben’s offer of food and wine, promising to make plans again soon. Harry’s quietness continued on the ride home, and once back at the house, he slipped silently down the hall before shutting the bathroom door decisively, followed by the sound of the bathtub tap running. 

Jeff let him have his space. Whatever is bothering him, he’ll either tell Jeff or he won’t, and it’s not much use pestering him.

So it’s both surprising and unsurprising when Harry seeks Jeff out—scrubbed pink and in nothing but his most well-loved terry cloth robe—and climbs into his lap, tactile as ever. 

Jeff smiles softly and sits up a bit from his reclined position of lying lengthwise on their living room couch. “Hi,” he says, as he squeezes Harry’s covered hips, just easy, gentle pressure. 

“Hi. You look really handsome today.” Harry braces his hands on Jeff’s chest, rocking his pelvis ever so slightly. Right to it, then. 

Jeff huffs and gives him a good-natured eye roll, cheeks heating under the intensity of Harry’s gaze. “I’m happy to see you’re in a better mood now.”

Harry’s head tilts, brows furrowing. “Hm?”

“Earlier. You were acting a little off.” Jeff slips his fingers under Harry’s robe, thumbs tracing over the warm skin of his belly. There’s no real intent behind his destination, but Jeff finds himself faltering for a moment, eyes widening slightly; he hopes Harry didn’t notice his misstep. 

Harry blinks quickly for a moment. His body suddenly tenses before he visibly makes himself relax, unspooling like a loose thread being pulled. “Oh. Uhm. That’s—it was nothing. Just got a little lost in my own head.” He smiles but it’s half-hearted at best. 

Jeff doesn’t want to push. He knows from experience that all it ends up doing is make Harry retreat like a cornered animal. Jeff also isn’t in the mood to be snapped at today, figuratively or literally, so he glides his hands higher up Harry’s front, away from his stomach and over the bumps of his ribs until his palms brush over his nipples, soft and puffy but firming up at the touch. The loose knot that was holding his robe partially closed tugs until it slips free, opening him up for Jeff’s view. 

Freckles; fine, blonde hairs; some darker hairs under his navel and in the middle of his chest; a stray blemish here and there. Jeff loves every bit of him, wants to be allowed to look and touch and taste forever. 

Harry—who Jeff has never known to be a shy person about his body—relaxes under the attention: his shoulders drop, settling into his perched position like it’s his favorite place in the world, lower back arching a bit as he delicately presents himself. Pink lips pull into a slightly crooked smile, his left dimple subtle but undeniably there. 

Jeff finds himself smiling back. He pushes the robe the rest of the way off, letting it pool on his lap, still warm from Harry wearing it. With Harry’s shoulders newly exposed, Jeff kneads at skin there, gentle and sure, encouraging Harry to loosen up even more. 

“Good?” Jeff asks. 

Harry nods his approval, sighing contentedly. He swirls his index finger over Jeff’s chest in slow, random loops before he finally stops at the bottom hem of his shirt. Green eyes land on Jeff’s own in a quick upward glance as he plucks at the fabric. 

“Doesn’t seem fair...” Harry says casually, pausing. His voice is like honey when he continues, “You know. That I’m the only one naked.”

Jeff lets out a quick puff of laughter. “You’re right. It’s completely unacceptable.” 

Careful not to upend Harry, Jeff sits up, pulls his shirt over his head, and tosses it on the floor. 

Harry’s eyes practically light up as he slides his fingers through the thick, dark hair that decorates Jeff’s chest. 

“Monkey man,” Harry teases, his nostrils flaring, dimple popping even more. 

“I make up for what you lack.” 

Harry scoffs in mock offense, but leans down to kiss Jeff anyway. It’s a sweet kiss, gentle pressure with mostly closed lips, and juxtaposed completely by the insistent way his dick is pressing against Jeff’s still-clothed groin. He’s only half hard, but given a bit longer to continue rolling his hips, Jeff knows he’ll get himself all the way there. 

Jeff himself isn’t too far behind. Harry changes his route and starts to trail his mouth down Jeff’s jaw and over the sensitive parts of his neck, until Jeff is scrambling to get a hand at his zip to undo his flies. 

Wordlessly, Harry rises up on his knees to give Jeff the room to work his jeans and underwear off, never once pausing on the lovebite he’s surely leaving under Jeff’s ear. 

Once Harry settles back down and there are no more barriers between them, it’s as if a spark has been lit, a new sense of urgency taking over. Their cocks brush, shafts nudging, already a bit slippery from the way Harry’s leaking. He always gets really wet; Jeff’s experience with guys is limited to Harry, but he still gets just as excited by it as he did the first time. He wraps his hand around them both, thumbing a bit of moisture from Harry’s slit and using it to slick them up some more, picking up an easy rhythm. 

When Harry kisses Jeff this time, finally parting from his tender neck, it’s with an open, panting mouth and swipe of tongue that has Jeff cupping the back of his head to keep him there. Harry’s mouth is warm and tastes faintly of peppermint from his toothpaste. Jeff gives back as good as he’s getting, nipping at Harry’s bottom lip and pushing their tongues together. 

He realizes that he’s abandoned his duty of jerking them both off a bit belatedly as Harry thrusts into the loose circle of his fist. But before Jeff can gather his wits and make a real effort again, Harry stretches over him to reach for the bedside table, the drawer opening and closing quickly. 

It isn’t a surprise when he comes back with the bottle of lube clutched in his hand, titling it from side to side like it’s a prize he’s showing off. 

Jeff is instantly on board. The last time they had actual sex was about two weeks ago, as they simply haven’t had the time or the energy for something so involved. Now is a perfect time as ever, with the whole evening ahead of them and Harry freshly showered. Jeff is near jittery with unbridled excitement, attentive and ready to follow Harry’s lead. 

Whether Harry wants to do his own prep or not depends on the day. Sometimes he likes the control, usually when it’s been a while or if he’s in the mood to make Jeff wait and watch. Other times, he hands Jeff the reins: wanting his attention, wanting to be looked after, content to sit back and be taken care of. 

Today, Harry makes quick work of reaching behind himself and slipping two fingers inside his hole before using his free hand to guide Jeff’s fingers into their place. Jeff watches as the muscles in Harry’s abdomen twitch and shift as he moves gingerly, back and forth and side-to-side, letting himself adjust. The sight alone makes up for the fact that Jeff can’t see the space where his fingers are stretching Harry open, the skin that he knows is shiny wet and blushed a deep pink. He can only touch, every slide, scissor and curl a deliberate one, until Harry nods: a silent instruction for Jeff to add a third finger. 

Only a couple minutes pass before Harry gets impatient and tugs Jeff’s hand away in favor of getting more lube and slicking up Jeff’s cock. 

“Like this?” Jeff asks, gesturing vaguely to their current positions. 

Harry shakes his head, a small, conspiratory smirk on his face as he flops onto his back and spreads his legs, knees bent, feet flat on the bed. Missionary isn’t their usual go-to, as it tends to aggravate the preexisting twinges in Harry’s spine, and the angle can sometimes be a challenge to get right. Most of the time, Harry likes to be on top, where he can regulate the depth and speed, or on his hands and knees for efficiency. Jeff likes what Harry likes, but he’s delighted by the prospect of this change of scenery. 

He presses a kiss to Harry’s shin as he makes the journey to settle in between his parted legs, and another on his inner thigh just for good measure. Jeff considers dropping down onto his belly and eating him out for a bit, to get him loose and wet with his mouth first. But despite the strong temptation, he decides to stick to the plan. The plan that involves asking, “Ready?” and steadily sinking into the tight warmth of Harry’s body as he nods and digs his heels into Jeff’s ass.

Jeff takes a moment to appreciate the feeling. The first few seconds are always special: eyes threatening to roll back, the incessant tingle flaring up from the base of his spine, hearing Harry’s breath hitch. 

He moves a little—just a gentle nudge forward until his balls are pressed against Harry’s ass—and circles his hips. Harry tightens up right away, his breath coming more rapidly, guileless fingers reaching for Jeff’s shoulders. 

“Fuck. You feel so—” The rest of Jeff’s words get lost as he drops his face against Harry’s neck and bites down on a very tempting bit of skin there. 

“Yeah?” Harry asks, curling his legs tighter around Jeff’s hips, keeping him close. 

Jeff nods, not bothering to attempt any speech. With the limited space to move, their position forces Jeff to grind rather than thrust. The bit of restraint is nice in a way. It’s making him more mindful, more conscious of how he’s moving and the resulting sensations. He closes his eyes, surrendering to instinct and letting his body do what feels right. 

That all comes to a violent, screeching halt when Harry whimpers and says, “I’m ovulating.”

Jeff stops moving, his eyes suddenly wide open and alert. He lifts his head and looks at Harry, searching his face for any sort of clue about how he should proceed. Harry’s expression is markedly guarded: teeth digging into his bottom lip, cheeks a deep red, his gaze fixed on a point over Jeff's right shoulder. 

“Are you—what?” Jeff asks. 

Harry takes a deep breath and looks at Jeff dead-on. “I said, I’m ovulating,” he repeats, more firmly. His blush has started to travel all the way down his chest and up to the tips of his ears. If Jeff wasn’t so out of his depth, he’d give him shit for it, because Harry very rarely gets embarrassed like this. 

“Okay,”' Jeff says slowly. He’s aware of all the points of contact they share right now, but he’s especially tuned in to the way Harry’s hands are shaking almost imperceptibly. 

It's clear to him that this isn't some type of joke. Now he has a better understanding of why Harry was silent and broody on the car ride home; why he kept touching his own belly like he was looking for something under the flat smooth skin there.

The taboo of it practically slaps Jeff in the face, charging him with something that he can't put his finger on, an urgency he's never experienced before. The idea (while biologically impossible at the moment) of getting Harry pregnant is so deeply appealing that his toes start to curl, his whole body nearly vibrating with frenzied need. 

The lack of condom feels different now. They use them sparingly and usually save them for days when they want easy cleanup, but Jeff currently isn’t sure how to ask the question he's piecing together in his mind.

Harry—who either isn’t being plagued by the same dilemma, or who simply wants to keep things moving—slides his fingers through Jeff’s hair and politely urges, “C’mon. Fuck me.”

No one, no matter how strong-willed, could deny a request like that. So Jeff does as he’s told, inching his hips backwards before using a bit more force for his next thrust. In turn, Harry moves his hips with him, tilting and adjusting to find the angle he likes best, and pulling Jeff down for a kiss that feels like being knocked over by an ocean wave when he finally does. 

Jeff can’t focus, overstimulated by touch, sound, and the fragments of thoughts that keep bouncing around in his head. He needs answers to certain questions, needs Harry to explain where this is coming from, and what he wants Jeff to do. But Jeff is preoccupied and wants to make this good for Harry, if simply just on a physical level. 

He keeps his pace as steady as possible, paying close attention to how and where he’s moving, and being rewarded by the sounds that keep tumbling out of Harry’s mouth. A sweet kiss here, a bite there, a brush of his thumb over one of Harry’s puffy nipples; Jeff uses his intimate knowledge of what Harry likes to get him delirious and clawing at Jeff’s back. 

It’s always hot, watching Harry when he’s like this. Jeff wants to see if he can up the stakes a bit, make things even better. He chooses his next words carefully, a smidge of fear that he’s going to fuck this whole thing up present in the way his voice wobbles when he asks, “Shouldn't— _oh_ —shouldn't we be making love instead of fucking? Seems a little more romantic. If we wanna— _shit_ —make a baby.”

Harry tightens around him so violently that Jeff fears for the safety of his dick. He keeps moving though, to not lose the nice momentum they’ve built up. 

Some of Harry’s hair has fallen onto his face, damp with sweat and starting to curl at the ends, so Jeff pushes it back for him with clumsy fingers. Harry’s eyes were closed tightly, but at the touch he opens them and reveals the wetness that has started to pool at lower lash line. 

“Babe—” Jeff starts. 

Harry cuts him off. “Do you mean it?”

Jeff’s hips slow to a painfully good drag, Harry’s familiar body still just as tight as when they started. They should probably add some more lube, as the friction is bordering on too much, but Jeff is afraid that a simple sneeze might kill the delicate edge they’re balancing on right now. 

“Did I mean what?” Jeff asks. His mouth feels like it’s filled with syrup, tongue sticking on every word. 

Harry’s eyes flick up to the ceiling. He lets out a quick huff, not quite annoyed but maybe building up to it. “The whole...baby thing.”

Jeff carefully drops most of his weight over Harry’s front, so their faces are only inches from one another. “Oh course,” Jeff says, easy as anything. He’s still not sure if he’s saying the right things, but he has to try, even if he feels a bit ridiculous. “Do you...do you think we’ll get it on the first try?”

“Yeah,” Harry breathes, instantly lighting up like he’s just been given the whole world. Tentatively, flushed red and voice shaking, he adds, “We won’t be able to test right away. But, uhm. I can’t wait. To be—to be pregnant with your baby.”

The groan that leaves Jeff’s mouth feels like it came from the very pit of his stomach. A shiver makes its way through his whole body, his skin prickling. He wants that so badly. Right now, he doesn’t care about anatomy or science; if Harry wants his baby, Jeff is going to give him a baby. 

He immediately gets back to work, fighting the urge to slam into Harry recklessly like his brain is screaming at him to, because that’s not what this is about. Harry deserves to be treated with care and be meticulously taken apart. Jeff can barely think straight, but he makes sure that every thrust has a purpose and kisses Harry like his life depends on it. 

Harry arches against him, his hard cock rubbing between their bellies, smearing them both with sticky precome. He keeps his mouth close to Jeff’s, plush lips grazing Jeff’s stubble, exhaling heavily against his skin as he moans. 

Jeff’s movements start to lose their precision as he gets closer and closer to the edge. He just has to hold on until Harry finishes, and then he can give him what he needs. In an effort to distract himself, Jeff starts talking again. “Come on, H. You’re gonna look so— _so_ good. Big belly. Glowing. _Fuck_ , you’re beautiful. Love—love you. C’mon.”

With a final thready cry, Harry throws his head back, wraps and tightens all of his limbs around Jeff, and comes messily between them. His voice cuts out halfway through, leaving his pink mouth hanging open. As Jeff gives him a second to settle, he notices a thin stream of moisture rolling down his cheek; a tear, forced out by how tightly he’s shut his eyes. 

“Sweetheart…” Jeff says softly. 

Harry is still wound tight like a coiled spring. He curls his fingers, blunt nails digging into the skin of Jeff’s back. “Please,” he whimpers. “ _Please_ , just—”

“Shh. Don’t worry,” Jeff murmurs, giving over to sensation, grinding his hips into Harry’s well-worked body. “Gonna...gonna do it. Give you a baby.”

His mind empties, heat flaring from his pelvis to the tips of his toes as all of his nerve endings start firing at once. He pushes in as deep as he can go and stays there, twitching and pulsing, filling Harry up just like he asked for. Jeff doesn’t like to throw certain words around in fear of turning them cheap and empty, but he wouldn’t hesitate to call this perfect. He wishes there was a sprinkle of magic he could dust over them, to make Harry’s wish a reality. 

It would be the most natural thing on earth: getting Harry pregnant, watching him grow, starting a family with him. Instead of being frightened or disconcerted, Jeff feels a warmth settle over him at the thought. 

His arms are about to give out from holding himself up for so long, so he rests overtop of Harry, not daring to pull out yet. He smiles when Harry sighs contentedly and starts to rub Jeff’s back with gentle hands. 

Maybe they’ll talk about it later. Maybe not. Jeff isn’t going to examine it too closely if Harry gets skittish or cagey. He can’t deny that it’s like a match has been lit inside of him, shining a light on parts of himself that he didn’t know existed, all sorts of new possibilities hanging right around the corner and ready for him to explore with Harry leading the way. 

For now, though, Jeff is content where he is. They’re both right where they belong. 


End file.
